


“You’re wrong and I’ll prove it.”

by courageous_boss



Series: Three Birds and a Baby (a Batfamily AU) [8]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-03
Updated: 2019-02-03
Packaged: 2019-10-21 21:54:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17650586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/courageous_boss/pseuds/courageous_boss
Summary: Dick doubts his place in the family. He's soon reminded that there was never any need to.or, Dick's first birthday at the Wayne Manor.





	“You’re wrong and I’ll prove it.”

**Author's Note:**

> Ages: Dick – 14  
> Jason – 18  
> Tim – 6  
> Damian – 2
> 
> Damian calls his brothers ‘ekhwah’, which is Arabic for brother. Since he’s still young, he’s seen shortening it to ‘wah’ in this fic. [source](https://qr.ae/TUr7TJ)

The conversation that tipped Bruce off hadn’t even been meant for his ears. It was just. Alfred had sent him to fetch the boys for lunch. Tim was easy to find, holed up in the library and surrounded by an ever-growing pile of books. Dick and Damian were always together, more so these days. Bruce checked Dick's room, finding it empty. Then, he heard soft, ebbing voices spilling from Damian's nursery.

Normally, Bruce prided himself on the fact that his children trusted him enough to come to him with any and all problems they faced. He’d worked hard on being open and considerate enough that they didn’t fear his reaction. However, for some reason, Bruce found himself pressing his ear against the door and listening in.

This was his first mistake.

“You’re getting so big, Dami,” Dick was cooing in that soft, gentle voice he reserved for those living in the Wayne Manor and especially the youngest Wayne boy.

Damian was babbling more and more each day and was able to squeal excitedly, “Birthday!”

Dick laughed and soon Damian's sweet giggles joined in, fast and loud enough that Bruce could tell that Dick was tickling the baby.

“Yes, it was your birthday on Friday. Lots of cake and games.”

“And presents!” Damian squealed.

“And presents,” Dick agreed. “I can’t wait for Timmy’s birthday. We’ll get him so much stuff that he’ll probably cry from how happy he is. And for Jason’s birthday! Oh, that will be fun. He’s grumpy a lot these days but Alfie says it’s because he has a lot of hormones to sort out.”

Bruce was beginning to feel like a creep for listening in on their innocent conversation. But, as he made to turn the door handle, he heard Damian's happy voice questioning, “Wah’s birthday?”

Dick laughed, still joyous and relaxed as he said, “Silly, Dami. I don’t have a birthday.”

Even as the two brothers continued on in their bubble of happiness and safety, Bruce felt ice in his chest.

How had it slipped his mind? Bruce rationalized for why he’d forgotten to have a birthday celebration for Dick. Dick had never fussed for a birthday, nor had he showed many signs of aging during his first year. It had slipped his mind, and Dick had never reminded him. Even now, well into his second year in the Manor, Dick didn’t seem upset to not have a birthday. Still, it wasn’t right. Bruce should have done something, _anything_ , to celebrate having Dick Grayson in his life.

Bruce resolved then to throw Dick the best birthday ever.

This was his second mistake.

 

* * *

 

Bruce gathered up the members of the Wayne family for an emergency family meeting. With Dick and Damian purposefully excluded, he got flashbacks to the last time he’d done this. Even the fleeting thought that he’d almost let Damian leave his side made his chest tight.

“Wayne family meeting, called to business!” Tim declared, amusement lighting his eyes.

Jason ruffled his hair and pulled Tim onto his lap, wrapping his strong arms around Tim’s tiny body. “What’s this all about, then?”

“I was recently made aware that Dick has never celebrated his birthday with us. If I’m correct, it may be more than ten years since he celebrated it,” Bruce said.

“That can’t be right,” Jason muttered under his breath, but Bruce could see him working out how Dick’s meek, quiet behavior during most of his first year with them had led them to overlook the event.

“No, it’s not right. So, I am planning the biggest, best, surprise birthday for him. I would like all of you to assist me,” Bruce said.

“Oh, a surprise!” Tim squealed excitedly. “That’s so fun.”

“Yes,” Bruce nodded, looking smug. “Now, does anyone have any ideas?”

 

* * *

 

Really, Alfred had anticipated this the second Bruce had announced that they were planning a _surprise_ birthday party. It was no secret that Dick’s time with the Court of Owls had traumatized him. The abuse he suffered at their hands was horrific and something the boy might never fully recover from. Despite Dick’s amazing progress during his time living with Bruce, the boy still had tendencies to fall into panic mode very easily.

It didn’t surprise Alfred that Dick was quick to pick up on the secretive behavior of his family. While Bruce, Jason, and Tim were busy planning the quote-unquote, “most epic party extravaganza ever”, Dick was quickly growing uneasy. It didn’t take much for Dick to notice the whispers, strange glances and conversations being cut short whenever he entered the room.

Little by little, Dick began secluding himself, spending all of his time either in his room or with Damian. He hesitated to be alone with Tim, Jason or Bruce and he’d begun to grow quieter. Somehow, Dick’s regression had been undetected by Bruce. Alfred wondered how Bruce had managed to be dubbed the World’s Greatest Detective when he was so dense most of the time.

“Master Bruce, can I have a word with you?” Alfred interrupted yet another top-secret, party, planning session.

Tim was on record-keeping duty, evident with the page he’d filled with doodles of decorations and party ideas. Jason was jotting down actual, legible notes in the margins.

“Alfred, of course,” Bruce said, excusing himself.

“Sir, I don’t mean to overstep, but have you considered that Master Dick wouldn’t enjoy a surprise party?”

“We need to do something special for him,” Bruce insisted. “You didn’t hear him. He was convinced that he didn’t even have a birthday. He expected us to ignore it. We can’t let that happen ever again.”

Alfred sighed at the pink dusting Bruce’s cheeks at his passionate speech.

There truly was no reasoning with a parent bent on doing the best by their child. “If you insist, sir. However, don’t say I didn’t warn you when this turns horribly wrong.”

“I won’t have to. Dick is going to love this,” Bruce said. “He’ll never see it coming.”

As Bruce returned to join Tim and Jason, Alfred muttered, “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

 

* * *

 

When Dick came down for breakfast, his stomach dropped. Jason and Bruce had been speaking softly and stopped abruptly when they saw Dick enter. In his arms, Damian sensed Dick’s unease and cuddled closer to his brother’s chest.

“Good morning Bruce, Jason. Good morning, Alfie,” Dick greeted, setting Damian up in his high chair and taking his usual seat beside him.

“Good morning, Dick,” Bruce said, voice happy. Dick’s party was only two days away and excitement was ringing through the trio of party planners.

Suddenly, Jason’s phone started ringing. With a heavy heart, Dick watched as Jason screened the call, shared a knowing look with Bruce and then excused himself to answer it. Dick had known this day would come someday. He just wondered what had been the deciding factor. Had they finally gotten fed up with his strange habits to check the locks every morning, evening and night? Had they realized that he was as foolish as Talon claimed he was? Had he said something to upset them? Dick understood that they wouldn’t want to keep him around forever, but he hoped that they’d at least tell him what he’d done wrong.

Alfred watched Dick’s emotionless, guarded expression as Bruce followed after Jason. While Alfred was aware that they were either sorting out cake or balloons, Dick wasn't privy to that information. With his closed-off demeanor, Alfred knew that Dick was assuming the worst.

“Master Dick?” Alfred said gently. He was always especially careful around Dick when the boy wasn’t feeling completely safe. While Alfred wasn’t sure what it was about himself that triggered Dick so badly, he respected that Dick didn’t trust him.

Dick stood briskly, looking like he’d been burned. “I’m sorry, Alfred.”

“Whatever for, Master Dick?” Alfred puzzled, worry washing over him. Damian too looked concerned, his tiny, baby features scrunching up.

Dick swallowed heavily, refusing to look at Alfred.

“I promise that no one’s upset with you, if that’s what’s worrying you,” Alfred said, stomach rolling when Dick flinched.

“Are you okay?” Alfred asked, hoping he wasn’t pushing Dick too much. In his head, he cursed Bruce for being such a fool.

“Yes, sir. Can I please be excused?” Dick asked, words soft and rushed.

“In a second. Just, please know that everyone in this house loves you and wants you to stick around forever,” Alfred said.

Dick looked up, blue eyes shining with unshed tears. His chin trembled as he croaked, “You’re wrong. And I’ll prove it.”

In habit from his days with Talon, Dick stayed glued in place, unable to leave until Alfred granted clear permission. By now, Alfred knew of Dick’s behaviors and with a resigned sigh, allowed Dick to leave.

As Dick scampered away, Alfred set a bowl of mashed peaches before Damian. The baby scowled at the food, looking miserable enough for the both of them.

“Wah leave?” Damian whined, making grabby hands at the doorway.

“He’s not going anywhere,” Alfred said, a sad lilt slipping into his words. “He just thinks he is.”

 

* * *

 

Dick sat in his room, dangling as far off the window sill as he was allowed to. Bruce rarely raised his voice at him but whenever he found Dick balanced precariously near the edge of the window, he got very grumpy very quickly.

It hadn’t taken long for Dick to collect all of his valuable possessions into a bag. He’d gathered up his favorite sweaters – the ones Jason had bought for him that had been softer and warmer than anything he’d ever owned before – the few drawings Tim had made for him and the picture of his old family that Bruce had given to him. Dick realized with a deep, sharp ache in his chest that there weren’t many material things in the Manor that he truly loved. Mostly, he just wanted to be around Bruce, Jason, Damian, and Tim. But, they didn’t want him anymore.

The horrible burning in his chest kept growing and Dick wished more than anything that he could make it stop. Then, he heard the hurried pitter-patter of tiny feet against the wood floors – Tim’s footsteps – but they passed right in front of his door and never stopped to come inside.

Dick felt more than heard the hurt sob climb up his throat. When the second one followed, and then the third, and no one came to check on him, he was assured that his time at the Wayne Manor was coming to an end.

 

* * *

 

When Dick awoke to Bruce knocking on his door and poking his head inside with a dopey smile on his face, his stomach did a strange, conflicted turn. On one hand, he could tell that today was the day; they were going to send him away with a chorus of ‘good riddance’ and ‘never come back’ and that would be the end of it. On the other hand, he loved seeing Bruce smile that smile that made the sun shine a little brighter.

“Good morning, chum,” Bruce smiled that same, overly happy smile.

Dick climbed out of bed and stood at attention. He stopped his hands from fidgeting and replied politely, “Good morning, B.”

Bruce smile grew bigger and Dick felt a wave of confusion wash over him. Surely Bruce wouldn’t look that overjoyed to be casting him away. Right?

“Can I come in?” Bruce asked.

When Dick nodded, Bruce entered and sat on the edge of the bed. He patted the space beside him and waited patiently for Dick to sit.

“Do you know what day it is today?” Bruce asked.

Dick thought it over for a few moments but couldn’t find a single special thing about the day. “March 20th?”

Bruce smiled gently, reaching out to slowly rest a hand on Dick’s shoulder. “That’s correct, chum. Today is also your birthday.”

Dick blinked owlishly at him. “My birthday?”

Bruce nodded, the smile he’d worn before coming on again. “Yes. I looked into it. It was difficult to find, but the records I found said that you were born on March 20th. I know we didn’t celebrate it last year. That was my error and I’m sorry.”

Dick’s brows furrowed. “I don’t think I understand.”

“That’s okay. How about we go downstairs? We’ve been planning a surprise for you.”

Dick still didn’t understand. But, he’d trusted Bruce this far and he allowed himself to be at the man’s mercy, if it was just this one last time. He slipped his tiny hand into Bruce’s strong grip at let the man lead him down to the kitchen, eyes falling on his packed bag before he left his room.

He felt his breath leave him when they stopped at the doorway to the kitchen. Because. There was Timmy, dressed in bright colors, wearing a frilly party heart and a beaming smile that probably reached all the way to the sun. Jason was there too and, _wasn’t he supposed to be with his friends today?_ But, he was right there, wearing a similar party hat and looking a bit embarrassed about it. Damian was in his chair, nibbling on his fingers which seemed to be covered in frosting. His hat was way too big, and he looked so, so happy to be there. Even Alfred was there, looking prim and proper as usual, save for his own party hat which he wore with dignity.

Dick looked at Bruce, chest rattled and empty. “This is for me?”

Bruce nodded, resting a hand on Dick’s head, which Dick was proud to not have flinched away from. “All for you, chum. Happy birthday!”

“Happy birthday, Dick!” Timmy screeched, bouncing around in excitement until Dick brought him in for a hug.

Jason ruffled Dick’s hair, “Happy birthday, Dickie-bird.”

Dick preened under the attention, blushing brightly. “Thank you.”

“Dick! Guess what? Guess what?” Tim squeezed Dick’s waist in as tight a hug as he could manage. “We have decorations. And cake. And we’re going to play games. And, and –”

Damian banged his tiny, chubby fists on the baby tray and cheered, “Presents!”

Dick giggled, peering around the room in shock. He felt fuzzy. Surely this couldn’t be real. Brue was beaming proudly and kept reaching out to hug one of his sons. Jason kept grinning, and then looking embarrassed for being so happy. Tim kept babbling on and on about all the fun things they were going to do. Damian looked overly content with the cupcake he’d been given for breakfast.

And Alfred. He just shared a gently, knowing look with Dick. And when Dick moved in for a hug from the old man, he missed the tears that gathered in the butler’s eyes.

“You were right, Alfie. They’re not getting rid of me,” Dick whispered, words wet.

Alfred placed a strong, gentle hand on Dick’s crown. “Not ever, young master. Not ever.”

**Author's Note:**

> I understand that the pacing here is a bit strange. But, I couldn’t seem to get it flowing properly and I wanted to get this out of my drafts. Hopefully, it wasn’t too jarring to read.


End file.
